Castiel's Story
by Sweet Victori
Summary: Just as the title says: a oneshot where Cas tells his side of things.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. Or Supernatural. You get the idea.**

 **Castiel's Story**

I have been an angel since the dawn of time. At least, according to the human calendar. There was a time before the Earth, when Darkness reigned, but that's not important. What's important is what came after.

My father destroyed the Darkness when I was still young. My older brothers, the strongest of us all, fought alongside God to lock the Darkness away. When the fight was finished, and the dust had settled, my father took the dust and created something beautiful- the Earth. And after he was done, he created something even more incredible. He made humanity.

At first, he was pleased with his creation. Adam and Eve had extremely bright futures, but then they chose the wrong path, my brother Lucifer's path. That was a sad day in heaven- not only was Lucifer truly lost to us, but Gadreel was banished to spend eternity in prison. Yet my father still had hope.

But then came Cain and Abel, Sodom and Gomorrah, huge floods and wars fought in God's name, and my father's hope slowly faded. By the Dark Ages his faith in humanity was gone, and he left.

At that time, the Black Plague was raging across Europe, and people were crying out to my father. They screamed and shouted at the sky, they whipped their backs, begging for attention. They believed at the time that God had abandoned them, and they were right. It still amazes me how Christianity somehow managed to stay afloat after that.

My brothers and sisters hated humanity after that. They always blamed people, as well as themselves, for our abandonment. At first, we tried to do as our father had first commanded, and look after the humans. It was a tiresome job, and eventually they all gave up. It tested our patience, and just made them hate humanity even more. We tried to guide them to the right decision, but nine times out of ten they made the wrong choice. After a while, most who didn't loathe humanity just ignored it altogether.

There were some, however, who loved humanity. My brother Gabriel was one of these. He told me all about their stories, about their concept of free will and freedom. "They're not perfect by any means, little brother," he would say with a sad smile. "But they try. And when they try, they make some pretty amazing things."

My brother disappeared shortly after that, and it wasn't until years later that I discovered where he went. But the world still turned, and the angels disappeared from humanity's sight.

Until many, many years later, when I heard about two brothers who were going to save the world.

That's what my brothers told me. I was there when the angels announced that we needed to rescue a soul from hell. I was one of the ones chosen to help raise him.

The front line of angels died before we had even reached him. We had the power, but the demons had the numbers. In the midst of the fighting, my brothers told me to grab the soul and go. I did what I was told- I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. And I still wonder how different my life would be if I hadn't.

I found something different when I met the Winchesters. All my life I was told that family meant following orders and being obedient. The Winchesters turned all of those beliefs on their head. I watched two brothers take on everything that life could throw at them: betrayal, excruciating pain, and monsters that could give even angels nightmares. But over heaven, hell, and everything in between, they chose each other. In my over-four-billion-years of living, I had never witnessed that first hand.

I watched as one brother went off the rails. I had never really liked Sam at first, given the blood flowing in his veins. During our first meeting, I called him "The boy with the demon blood". But I soon came to realize that it was less about what you are born as then about who you choose to be. It was the first of many things that I would learn from the Winchesters.

Another thing about the Winchesters that perplexed me was their constant faith in each other. There was this kind of underlying trust that was unspoken but powerful in its own right. I never understood why, after Sam betrayed Dean, after Dean almost said yes to Michael, that they were still able to have a blind faith in family that I have never seen anywhere else. They could've just played their parts in the Apocalypse like they were supposed to. But if they had, this story wouldn't be half as interesting. And not the least bit inspiring.

That's another thing about the Winchesters- fate means nothing. Destiny is just a word, just another expectation thrust upon one's shoulders. I was always taught that destiny was set in stone, something that had to be followed to a T. It was never a choice or a decision, but a way of life.

I had believed for millions of years that there was only one way- the way that was decided for you. I am sure that if it had been anyone else chosen for the Apocalypse, they would have agreed to be the vessels. But the Winchesters are far from just "anyone". They have a spirit I have never seen before, and while that can be slightly annoying at times, it has gotten them through so many tough spots that honestly it could be called a blessing. Or a curse. Really, it's a toss-up.

Because on one hand, they were saving millions of innocent lives. My brothers would have roasted this planet alive without a second thought, and I could not watch that happen. Humanity may not be perfect, but neither is my family. We were always taught that angels were the highest of all beings, but really we are worse than humans. At least humans can admit their faults. My "family" insists that they are perfect and can do no wrong.

On the other hand, the Winchesters lost what was most important to them- family. When Sam fell into the cage with Lucifer, I could sense how much it hurt Dean. I could see it on his face. I saw that look on Sam's face too, way too many times, especially when Dean had the Mark of Cain. It was the look of a broken man, and I, still feeling partially responsible for them, decided to set things right. At least, I tried to set things right. I had good intentions, but good intentions do not always lead to good results. But family was everything to them, and it seemed especially cruel to take that away.

That was the most important thing I learned from the Winchesters- you don't give up on your family. I suppose that is why I once tried to lead my brothers and sisters to a better way. Although when I tried to lead them to a better way, something usually went very, very wrong. And some of the things that I have done are absolutely unforgivable. I broke the wall in Sam's head and caused him so much pain. I almost killed Dean while under the influence of Naomi. Hundreds of my brothers and sisters died because of my incompetence and pride. I should not even be alive when so many have died. The Winchesters should've killed me long ago.

But they didn't. I don't know what I did to deserve their trust and forgiveness, but for some reason they don't seem to care about what I have done in my past. I understand now that the Winchesters have given me something that Heaven never could- a home and a family. A wise man once said, "Family don't end with blood", and I guess it doesn't. Because I know that Sam and Dean will always be there for each other, and me, because that is who they are. They will never abandon their family. They will never abandon me.

And now I sit here in the bunker, typing this on Sam's laptop, to read when I am gone. It is going to happen someday, I know it, but hopefully I will die honorably, fighting along the Winchesters' sides. I can think of no better way to go.

Because I have been alive for over four billion years, and I have seen a lot. I have seen empires rise and fall and brother turn on brother. I have seen death and life and happiness and sorrow. I thought I'd seen everything and had it all, but I never had _this._ This trust, this kinship, this _home,_ is something I never thought I would have, not in my many millennia of living.

After four billion years, I finally have a family.


End file.
